Scorpius steps forward, and his voice rings out clearly across the room. "I ask to speak on behalf of the Wallygagglers of North Moor."

Though the court has already agreed to see him, Draco still finds himself a quivering knot of tension until a witch says, "The Wizengamot honours this request. Will you please state your case?"

As Scorpius begins to explain, Potter twitches in his seat beside Draco.

"Would you relax, for Merlin's sake? No one's going to recognise you."

Potter sighs, but, forcibly, he stops his leg from jiggling. He's used Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself as that Heffley fellow again, but he's clearly still worried he's going to be mobbed by rabid fans.

Lavender giggles on Draco's other side. They're the only two that came with him today, due to a combination of work responsibilities and prior commitments.

"Where'd you find this bloke, anyway?" Draco asks. "Aren't you worried someone will recognise him?"

"Nah, I use him all the time. I've nearly always got a bottle on me. He's a cousin of Fleur Delacour — Bill assured me no one will recognise him outside of France."

"She was the Veela, wasn't she?"

"What, can't you tell I've got Veela DNA now? Aren't I devastatingly handsome?"

Draco snorts. "I liked you better before."

He doesn't realise what he's said until he notices Potter's eye staring sideways at him.

"I'll keep that in mind," Potter says with an innocent smile.

"Don't. I didn't mean—"

Lavender starts laughing again, barely stifling it behind her hand.

"Oh, shut it, you."

"That's not how you should talk to someone doing you favours," she points out.

"Fine. Thank you for your services, and shut the hell up," he mutters.

She kicks him lightly with the heel of her boot. "Didn't do it for you, Malfoy; it's my job. Prick. I can't believe I devoted my entire career to this, and it's you and your son who discover a new magical species."

He snorts, but then he notices that the crowd has grown angry, everyone speaking over each other in their rush to protest, and he starts paying attention again.

"Order," the head witch commands. "Mr Malfoy, you may continue."

"We can't keep polluting the North Moor like this," Scorpius says. "It's uninhabitable. They risk hexes, jinxes, and curses every time they go for a drink. Not to mention that their natural food sources have diminished. It's not just them, either. A nearby werewolf pack has been affected too."

"If the situation is so bad, why haven't they left the area?" a wizard from the panel asks.

"Wallygagglers come from the magical variety of thunderegg rock. They make pods wherever these rocks form, and they stay in the same area for generations unless wizards move them. They can't travel more than one hundred metres or so from their resting place without being pulled back. Not to mention that it isn't their fault we've messed the moor up."

"That'll be enough for now, Mr Malfoy," the witch says. "Thank you. We'll discuss your official proposal, which we have here," she holds up a sheaf of parchment, "at the next opportunity. In the meantime—"

"But I haven't given you all the information! They want to meet with Ministry officials personally to argue their case. They want you to go to the moor and see the situation for yourselves."

"And we'll consider that in our response to your proposal. We'll get back to you in no more than a year's time."

"A year?!" he asks, even as audience members begin to rise and shuffle out the door. "They're getting sicker every day! The entire pod will be dead before you even decide!"

"We ask that you please maintain composure, Mr Malfoy, and allow us to do our jobs. Meeting adjourned. If you do not wish to leave, we can have security escort you out."

Scorpius looks like he's ready to blow up, so Draco shoots to his feet and across the room in record time, grabbing Scorpius's arm to pull him out the door.

They don't speak until they are outdoors. The sun is shining brightly enough that Draco feels hot under his robes, breaking up the winter chill. He unbuttons his collar and casts a mild Cooling Charm just as he sees Lavender and Potter exit the building, and he waves them over.

"I can't believe this," Scorpius is saying. "Do they really expect the Wallygagglers to wait a year for any changes?"

"She said no more than a year's time. That doesn't mean it has to take that long."

But Scorpius still looks miserable, and Draco knows he's stretching the truth into something more palatable. The Wizengamot doesn't do important things quickly, not for as long as he's been alive. They're too busy fucking about with things no one wants to happen.

"I'm sorry, Scorp."

Lavender catches up with them first. Clearly, she hadn't expected much better from the meeting, but she looks at Scorpius with sympathy, anyway.

"They're always bastards. But you did very well."

Potter comes to a stop a bit away, not intruding on their circle.

"Thank you," Scorpius tells her stiltedly.

"Don't give up on this, yeah? The Liaison Department would be lucky to have you as their head."

"I'm not giving up. Don't worry. I'm going to do something. Something huge. Something that will make them pay attention."

Draco recognises trouble brewing. "Don't you want them to hire you later on? Maybe that's not the best idea."

"What's the point?"

"What do you mean?"

"If this is how it's gonna be, what's the point?" He looks to Lavender like she'll have an answer, but she doesn't. "If they're going to ignore me like this once I'm hired, what good does it do?"

"You'd still be fighting for what's right," Draco argues.

"And, once you're a Ministry Official, you'll have the position necessary to get other people involved," Lavender agrees. "Protestors, philanthropists, all kinds."

"Yeah? And what luck have you had with that?"

Lavender bites her lip. "Well, centaurs are very different. They don't want any human interference ... they don't even want to be considered Beings. I've made notable progress with a herd in Wales, though! They agreed to stop killing human children who accidentally trespass on their land."

"Well, splendid, but I'd like to accomplish a little something more with my life." He turns to Draco, who is just about to tell him off for being so rude, but Scorpius doesn't wait for him to speak. "I'm going to mum's."

Then he Disapparates.

Draco stands in stunned silence for a moment.

Lavender lets out a small laugh.

"Apologies, truly," he finally says. "He's not usually so..."

"Oh, please, I remember being his age." She doesn't look as nonchalant as she sounds.

"He's not right, you know. It sounds like you kept at least a few children from being murdered. That's not nothing."

She rolls her eyes. "In twenty-five years, one herd, a few children ... What he said isn't ridiculous. Look at me."

He looks. Remembers the way she'd been boasting about how busy she was, how much good she was doing, just a few weeks before.

"Aren't you ... happy?"

She gives him a startled look. "Should my profession make me happy?"

"Mine does. Did."

Lavender smiles. "Well, you're welcome, then."

"Much appreciated."

"Happy?" She snorts derisively. "I don't ... I'm forty-six years old — which I'm only telling you because I know you know. I'm not married, I don't have any kids, my friends ... If my job is supposed to make up for all that, I picked the wrong one. I suppose when I'm actually doing something besides telling people who wander into my office that they're probably fired and have been sent to me by mistake, it's ... all right."

Then she focuses on him, and the intensity reminds him of Pansy Parkinson. Pansy stayed closer with Astoria after the divorce, and perhaps it's through some sort of misplaced loyalty that she rarely calls on him now.

He misses her. If past trends are any indication, he'll see her sometime around Christmas at one of Astoria's holiday parties, and they'll catch up and promise to do so more often in the future.

"Today was good, though," Lavender says. "If my job included more consults and proving creatures I read about in storybooks as a child were real?" She laughs. "Well, then yeah, I'd probably say my job made me happy."

He nods slowly. "If Scorpius hasn't got his head completely up his arse, and I'm able to figure out what he's planning to do here, we might need more help. If you want to get involved..."

"Owl me." Lavender gives him one last grimace of a smile and backs away, disappearing with a little wave and a pop.

Potter joins him, and for a while, they walk in silence. The street around the Ministry's entrance is crowded with Muggles. He sees a young boy flip a coin into a fountain, and it spins in a circle in the air, catching the light.

It's not until they reach Big Ben that they realise neither of them had a destination in mind.

Potter gives a dull laugh.

"What?" he asks softly.

"Nothing." Potter kicks at a loose stone. It goes skittering across the pavement. "Just, I've watched Kingsley spend so much time reforming the Ministry. I was with Ron when he began culling the Auror force and filling it with people he trusted to do good, and I've seen Hermione push for better legislation endlessly for the past two decades ... I guess I figured that after all that, it wouldn't be, 'The Ministry sucks, sorry. Go home.' You know?"

He does know. Still, he says, "In Lavender's defence—"

"She doesn't need any. It's not her. At least she isn't pretending."

Draco thinks of her cramped office on the fourth floor, with the threadbare carpet and the moth-eaten curtains. He pictures the professionally pressed robes she dons every day, and the higher and higher heels that make her sink into the ground.

Maybe they're all pretending a bit.

"I'm going to take Scorpius's lead on this one," Draco says.

Potter's eye pivots to examine him.

Draco clears his throat. "It's his project, so, whatever he wants to do ... I believe him when he says he'll make them pay attention. I'm not sure it'll be the good kind, but I believe him."

Potter nods. "When you figure out what the plan is, my letter filter has been modified."

Draco raises a brow. They've made it to an Apparition point now.

"I had it set to burn up anything that came from a tall, blond prat for a while — got you and my cousin in one go, so it was pretty solid. It should let you slide through now, though."

Draco pretends to examine the time "You like short blond prats?"

"Oh, yeah. Huge fan. Much more attractive."

He does not let his amusement show. "I'll see you around, Potter."

"Yeah," Potter says, and he raises his wand, "you will."